Hey, bestie! What are your top 5 Eddie headcanons??
Hello bestie! Ok this is HARD there’s so much to choose from 😭
That he’s a total munch and love love loves eating pussy more than anything, he does it for his own pleasure. And his favorite position in the world is to have his girl sit on his face.
That he is way more intelligent than people believe, or that even he gives himself credit. I believe Eddie is intelligent as hell, but the system failed him.
That he’s fiercely loyal and protective with the people he cares about. A true hero.
People love to say he’d enjoy all types of music but I think of him as a total musical snob lmao. No he does not like commercial pop, get that noise away from him. I’m not saying he only likes metal either. He’s just ultra specific of what he likes. Like, okay, pop. Get Madonna away from him, but Elton John? He could dig Elton John. You see my vision? New Wave? He doesn’t like Duran Duran, but Depeche Mode?
On the contrary to music, he’s attracted to all body types. He’s not a snob when it comes to that. Small titties, big titties, big thighs, slim legs, hairy bodies, freckled bodies — as long as the person he’s attracted to is genuinely good? He’s a simp.
Oooh, maybe “a kiss on the cheek that almost turns into a real kiss” with hux, please? 💖
Oh gosh this had me melting!! Please I am a mess after this. I hope you like it!! I gave it a modern au spin (because I recently started a new one and this has been playing on my mind.)
Also can I have a round of applause please for only writing 1036 words. Yes. Yes I did.
Armitage Hux x F!Reader
The wine made him feel lighter and possibly a little stupid.
His long fingers toyed with the glass, the light of the tv catching on the liquid inside as you watched the end of the film. Your eyes were wide, reflecting the changing scenes and he found himself watching you more than the screen.
He knew how this was going to play out; the film was going to end, you were going to say goodnight and he was going to watch you walk back home next door. Then he was going to spend the night laying in bed and wondering what would have happened if he just took a chance. He hated it, the feeling of inadequacy that he had when he was around you, the way his insides quivered every time you even glanced in his direction. To his severe disappointment the credits started and he stuffed all his feelings back inside, still trying to talk himself into stepping out of his comfort zone with you.
“So what’s the next one on the list?” You asked. He tensed, all thought left him except for the feeling of your warm hand on his knee. He couldn’t focus, he had no idea what film you’d just watched, let alone which one was next.
“Oh…” it was all he could muster.
“Are you tired?” You asked quietly, your eyes filling his vision in the dim light shining from the kitchen.
“Yes,” he blurted out stupidly. This was ridiculous. He was an intelligent man! He had a come back for everything, a tongue that could cut glass…but you effortlessly stole the skill of speech from him. You made him feel so empty and yet full at the same time. He didn’t know how to deal with it.
“I should be going.” The disappointment he felt was crushing, tinged with anger at himself that you felt the need to leave because he couldn’t function and give you a decent reply.
He watched you get up, taking your glass to the kitchen, the warmth of your presence trickling away and he found he needed more. Pushing up from the cushions he followed you, smartly stepping around you to place his glass on the side with yours. Maybe now? But you were heading down the hallway already. He wished he could stop the spiral, the sinking feeling of his heart when his thoughts took over, the way they dragged him down, raking him over the hot coals fired by his own awkwardness. The closer you stepped towards the door, the more he felt his time running out. His pulse was thready, his heart smacking into his ribs and he knew a blush was creeping over his skin, betraying him at every turn.
“So, same time next week?” His voice sounded higher than usual and he coughed, embarrassment now mingling with the storm inside him. A hand ran through his hair down the back of his neck to ease some of the tension that had gathered there, not that it helped.
“Well I have no plans this weekend. If I can finish my commission tomorrow afternoon I could come over in the evening? Unless you have plans,” you rushed out.
“No. No plans,” he reassured you with a slight smile. “Just you.” Oh god. Did he just say that? His ears were burning, flaring in the heat of his discomfort, but you gave him a smile anyway. One that had his stomach twisting back on itself and he felt his hand flex at the idea of cupping your face. What if he kissed you on the cheek? He couldn’t fuck that up…surely?
But you’d turned, you were opening the door and he nearly snatched at your arm in desperation. The pressure in his ears was thundering so loudly he almost didn’t hear your response.
“It’s a date then,” you were saying as you stepped outside, his feet moving after you as though they had a mind of their own. You turned back to say goodnight and he knew it was now or never.
He barely registered that he was moving, he aimed for your cheek but you moved at the last second and he caught the edge of your lips. His entire body seemed to freeze at the delicate scent of you; the drift of your shampoo, the hint of perfume that you had sprayed before leaving the house, mingled with the warmth of your skin on his — it rendered him utterly stupefied.
He waited for you to push him away, to scold him for his boldness or tell him that you didn’t think you should spend time together anymore, but it never came. Instead he felt the corner of your mouth grow soft, your hand coming up to gently curl around his wrist and he exhaled tenderly against your face before realising what had happened.
“S-sorry,” he muttered. “I tried…” he was drowning. Suffocating on the air between you as you gazed up at him, your fingers still resting on his wrist. He made himself step back, anxiety was crawling through him and he knew he had to escape.
“Armitage…” Just the sound of his name coming from your mouth made his eyes blow wide. Why did you have to say it like that? The whisper of it barely reached his brain and he stumbled over the step up into his house.
“Goodnight!” It came out so much louder than he’d intended and he nearly winced. He was a fool. A bumbling idiot that didn’t deserve to be in your presence. Too caught up in the ferocity of his shame and annoyance he missed the brief look of disappointment that crossed your beautiful features.
“Goodnight, then.” You didn’t sound angry, put out maybe. Not that he noticed. Nodding wordlessly at the floor he nearly shut the door in your face, quickly switching off the hallway light so he could crumble on the stairs.
He heard your front door go, your footsteps light as they made their way up the stairs, right beside him and he put his hand on the wall. Wishing with all his might he could just express himself and not fear how big his feelings for you really were.
(Just putting this in a separate post not to hijack your original post, bc LOTS of words approaching. Also it's 2AM here, I don't know what I'm doing 💁♀️)
I hope you're having a better day! Kids can be really cruel sometimes, honestly it's the one thing that made me choose another career. I have so much respect for teachers who are doing their best to educate kids, putting all their effort in their lectures and trying to make these kids into better humans. I'm 200% sure you're one of them!
In a lot of places, teachers like you are extremely underappreciated, while you are forming the very future. It's really discouraging sometimes, especially when you have some rotten apples in the group.
Not to put any more pressure on your shoulders 😆 but I do mean it. My mother is a teacher too and her story is VERY similar. 10000000000000000000000000000000x respect.
So I was going to draw a soft Hux sketch for you because I'm no good with words. But while sketching, and sitting in front of our cosy fireplace, I came up with a fluffy scene accompanying the drawing...
And then this blurb happened 🤓
(So @everyone, in advance, sorry for the weird English, it's not my native language and I sometimes just literally translate sentences from my native language, without knowing they don't make sense at all 😅 Feel free to let me know. Although I don't aspire to be a writer I do like to learn stuff 🙃)
(Also the sketch is more realistic than my usual style - I don’t really know what it's supposed to be - and there are mistakes all over the place, but it was nice to try something new 🥰 it's under the break!)
It's GN, just fluff, reader in established relationship with the one and only general ginger 😏😏😏 it's nothing special really, but I hope it's comforting?
The General isn't a man to show compassion, or, for that matter, emotions of any kind. But you know he is very perceptive of his surroundings. You remind yourself of that, when you get the note on your datapad.
'Care for tea?', it reads. As short and efficient as ever, but warm and inviting. There's no trace of pressure, and there's an extra underlying message only you fully grasp. He wants to make time for you. For the both of you.
Your shift had just ended and you were on your way to the mess, but you abruptly changed course, while sending out an affirmative reply. You weren't planning to meet up with someone anyway. You were too worked up and worn out for that. You couldn't imagine the last time a shift had put so much pressure on you.
When you pressed the entrance button of his quarters, announcing your arrival, the door opened almost instantly. He's standing right in front of you, trying to act relaxed and casual, but you know him better than that. He was waiting for you at the entrance. And while his uniform dress shirt was open, the collar hanging loose on his neck and his shirt showing, you could hear him fiddle with his fingers. The leather of his gloves was making these little rasping sounds. A sound you recognized all too well. You could easily distinguish it, even from the other side of the bridge. Usually it meant he was bothered by something, but now it was just the usual nerves. They would disappear soon.
He surprised you with a warm smile, and the sight made all the built up tension from the shift flee from your sore muscles. The way his lips curled, how his cheeks looked just a bit fuller and the way his eyes lost their cold stare and turned into an almost loving gaze, made you forget about anything else. The only thing you could think right now, was that you were the only one who ever saw him genuinely smile. It took ages for him to open up and be sincere to you, but it was absolutely worth it.
He stepped aside, making room for you to enter his private living space. The smell of tea invited you over to the blue sofa and the ginger cat snoozing on the cushions. You took a seat, and Millicent sleepily crawled over, onto your lap. Hux approached, giving you your cup and taking his own in his right hand. Tarine tea in his, and your favorite flavor in yours. You stopped petting Millie and grabbed the warm cup with both hands, enjoying how the temperature made your knuckles loosen up.
He sat down on the other side of the bench, as by habit trying to keep anyone out of his personal space. You knew better though, and bent over to his side, planting your head under his chin and wiggling it to find the right spot. Just like the cat did a few minutes ago. You could hear a soft chuckle escaping his mouth, and you were sure he was thinking the same.
Moments like these made you realize how good you knew each other. The way he always had to adapt to physical contact, especially after a stressful shift. The little signs of emotion no one else could see. So many invisible signals you could catch with ease.
Your ear was pressed against his chest, and you listened to his steady heartbeat. The mug was still in your hands. You took in the soothing smell and you realized he was even better at catching signals than you were.
You sipped your tea and smiled. Both of you haven’t spoken a word since you got in, but there was no reason to. He understood what you needed. This comfortable silence, the beating of his heart and the spinning cat on your lap were everything you wanted right now.
He put down his cup, making you shift your position. When he leaned back, you found your place back on his chest. He wrapped his arm around you this time, though, returning the affection with a soft hug. After a moment, you could feel his hand loosen its grip on your upper arm. He brought his other hand closer to pull out his gloves, giving you the silent signal that he was fully adjusted to your closeness. He lifted his now bare hand and placed it on your scalp, slowly massaging your head with his lean fingers. You could feel hair strands loosening and with it, the last of your stress disappearing and your eyes slowly closing. You were only slightly aware of him taking the almost empty cup from your hands, before falling into slumber.
Clyde is absolutely my ADCU comfort character. I love that sweet, shy, absolutely hulking oh my god he’s so huge man 🥺
I stg every day of my stupid little life I wonder HOW THE FUCK CLYDE LOGAN CAN BE SO LARGE. LIKE HE SEEMS LARGER THAN ANY OTHER OF AD’S CHARACTERS. JUST LOOK AT HIM
okay but what about bondage with lita and kylo in shatter with kylo tied up????? 👀 I'd love to see what you come up with 😘
Hello, Star!! I really loved this prompt and was very excited to do it. Again, it ended up longer than 3 paragraphs but I hope you like it! It takes place before Shatter begins, during the investigation of Han’s death.
Warnings for bondage, dom/sub dynamics, slight praise kink and brief mentions of pegging
Kylo/OC, 18+
Kylo had been stressed during this whole ordeal with his father. He knew the truth, as did Lita. The investigation was starting to run cold and the authorities weren’t even close to knowing what truly happened that night. He was finishing up work before shooting Lita a text to “be ready for him.”
She’d had something in mind for him and Kylo hadn’t been specific in his request. Some nights he had to give up his constant need for control and surrender it to her, letting Lita take care of him whether it be with a strap on, a riding crop or, in tonight’s case, she’d tie him to the headboard and fuck him until they were both nearly incoherent. Lita checked the time. He’d be home in 15 minutes. She had prepared nicely, a length of soft red rope bundled up in her lap while Lita lounged on the sofa in a set of pretty black lingerie and black heels.
When Kylo walked through the door, he was almost relieved to see the rope in his wife’s lap. He’d been thinking about all the things he wanted her to do to him on the drive home. How he wanted to be used while Lita bounced on his cock, tied up and completely at her mercy. The thought alone had made him hard. Lita crooked one finger, beckoning him forward, and Kylo immediately rushed to her, dropping to his knees at her feet and offering up his hands.
It was quick work. Lita had gotten good at tying knots and cuffing his hands together over the years. There was a small length left, something she used to guide him to the bedroom, carefully shutting the door and sending Kylo to sit on the bed. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes following all of Lita’s movements.
“What do you want, darling?” Lita asked, climbing to straddle Kylo’s lap.
“Use me. Please, baby, I need you.”
At his words, she grabbed his bound wrists and pushed them over his head before pinning Kylo down.
